


Woodland Adventures

by froggy (therealfroggy)



Series: Striptease II [4]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: M/M, Outdoor Sex, Rough Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 13:56:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/froggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What LJ saw in the forest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Woodland Adventures

LJ kicked up a few fallen leaves as he wandered aimlessly through the outskirts of the little forest close to their camp. Michael was cooking today, so there should be something good (or at least healthy) for dinner, but they weren't eating for another hour, at least. He'd decided it was more interesting to go for a walk than to watch Sucre and Lincoln play cards. Life on the run wasn't really all that.

Well, it wasn't for him. Some of the other guys seemed well enough off; ´some of the other guys` meaning T-Bag and Abruzzi. During the three nights LJ had spent in the camp so far, he'd heard them going at it at least three times. He wasn't sure if they were still doing it, or if they were doing it again, when he woke with a start from someone's arm crashing into his side (Lincoln tossed around in his sleep a lot).

And the thing was, it wasn't just the noise that was keeping LJ awake. It wasn't just the groans and whimpers and panting that made him squirm around in his sleeping bag trying to get comfortable enough to actually sleep.

It was all the things he suddenly had to come to terms with.

His father and his uncle were just as bisexual as he was, if not ten times that. And they were into each other. In some twisted way he could understand that; purely based on appearance they were both completely shagworthy. And they were both adults and they loved each other, so there wasn't a problem there either. So why did he spend so many hours thinking about it?

Because they were family.

Not only each others' family, but _his_ family. They were the only two people LJ had left in the world, and while it made him slightly uneasy that what they were doing was wrong... he still couldn't escape the feeling that it was, in a strange way, logical: they only had each other, they were stuck out here with no women, they loved each other, and the whole genetics thing wasn't involved (he did realize things would have been even more complicated had the possibility of reproduction been in the picture).

Meanwhile, the Bible said it was wrong. The law said it was wrong. The unwritten rules of civilization said it was wrong. So why did his gut have trouble deciding?

“Boy, you sure should wear that shirt more often.”

LJ stopped dead in his tracks. That was T-Bag's voice. He looked around.

“Really.” Abruzzi.

“Oh you should,” came the lilting reply, “'cause we all know how hard I am to coax into bed, an' that shirt'll sure do the trick.”

A snort; Abruzzi. “Yeah, Theodore, you're just _so_ uptight.”

A snicker, then a few moments of silence. LJ bit the inside of his cheek. He should not be listening to this; it was obvious the two men thought they were alone, and he knew perfectly well what they were about. But still he didn't move or say a word.

“We should be gettin' back, John boy. Dinner.”

T-Bag was teasing the other man; LJ could hear that even at a distance.

“Like hell we should, Teddy,” Abruzzi snarled. “And you should know by now, I don't like a tease.”

“Well, then you better teach me a lesson, don't ya think?”

LJ shifted his weight from foot to foot. He should definitely not be listening to this; he knew he should just cover his ears and walk away, humming loudly. But these two men, they... they were so fascinating to him.

Of course he knew how two men had sex. In theory, he knew all about it. And there was no doubt in his mind as to what went on around this camp; he knew what his dad, his uncle and the other guys were doing. Had done. He knew.

What he didn't know, was how to handle the real deal. Sure, he knew what was supposed to go where, and he'd both given and received blow jobs, but the hard truth was that he had no actual experience. And he wanted that.

So he crept closer, making as little sound as possible, curiosity and an odd need driving him forwards. Towards the source of the wet sounds and masculine moans drifting through the forest.

_Oh. Holy. Shit._ Abruzzi, leaning back against a big tree, was not the one moaning. He was panting, his mouth open and his eyes closed ; but he wasn't moaning in pleasure. T-Bag was.

T-Bag, on his knees in front of Abruzzi, clutched the mobster's hips in a white-knuckled grip, and his eyes were lidded. He tilted his head just so, bobbing it back and forth along the other man's cock, swallowing down every inch. And he was the one moaning like a regular porn star.

LJ swallowed hard. _Oh fuck._ His pants were tenting in the front, and he was embarrassingly aware of what he was going to have to do before returning to camp. But the looks on their faces, the sounds they were making; it had LJ hypnotized and he couldn't have pulled his gaze away even if he'd wanted to.

“Enough,” Abruzzi suddenly gasped, stopping the other man with a strangely gentle touch to the cheek. LJ had never seen either man as exposed.

“Off,” the mobster commanded, spitting in his fist and slicking himself. The Alabamian quickly opened his own shorts and pulled them down; and somehow, between rough groping and what could only be described as equally rough kissing, the two men managed to switch places so that T-Bag was leaning against the tree, though with his back to the other man. Still on his knees.

“You sure we shouldn't be gettin' back, John?” T-Bag laughed, and was rewarded with a growling sound of refusal from Abruzzi. The taller man pulled T-Bag closer by the hip, licking his lips greedily, and LJ knew he should most definitely leave. He didn't.

“Hard, John,” T-Bag panted, his fist tightening visibly on the tree trunk.

“You'd think I'd know by now how you like it,” Abruzzi snarled, almost impatiently, before he started pushing against the murderer's hips slowly. T-Bag gave a strangled grunt and pushed back, silently pleading for more.

LJ released a choked-up breath, the blood rushing from his legs and brain to make his erection almost painful. But he couldn't look away, couldn't tear his gaze from the two men moving slowly and unevenly together on the forest floor not even ten yards away.

“Goddamn, harder!” T-Bag demanded, his body tensing up. Abruzzi gave a groan and canted his head back, his eyes rolling upwards. T-Bag bit his bottom lip and pushed back hard.

“Oh shit,” LJ whispered as the mobster rammed into the man in front of him, pulling back quickly before repeating the movement. T-Bag moaned loudly, his back stretching and curving as Abruzzi thrust hard; the warm afternoon air seemed cold in comparison to the sweat-slick skin of the two men.

“Ah, Theodore, you beg for it every time, don't you?” Abruzzi hissed, leaning over to play his tongue over the smaller man's ear.

“John,” T-Bag whimpered – LJ couldn't quite believe his ears – arching into the other man's touch. “C'mon, keep talkin'.”

“I know,” Abruzzi murmured in his ear, “it drives you wild, doesn't it?”

And from the way T-Bag cried out in pleasure when the other man's hand fenced him in and pressed him to the trunk, LJ could tell that was no overstatement.

“I think you need the talking more than the sex,” Abruzzi said, never letting his tempo drop, never gentling his thrusts. “You need to hear my voice in your ear, need to feel my breath on your neck. My tongue...” The mobster traced the ridge of the other's shoulder with the very tip of that tongue, “...on your skin. You're my bitch, Theodore.”

“More!” T-Bag gasped.

“Yes,” Abruzzi hissed, biting hard at the place just where T-Bag's shoulder met his neck.

Breath catching in his throat, T-Bag came, clenching around the man inside him.

“So easy to satisfy,” Abruzzi snarled, thrusting harder yet. T-Bag moaned, the expression on his face one of pain but the sound that of pure passion. The taller man was bucking against him now, leaning on the tree to either side of T-Bag, a growl rolling from his throat.

“Oh yes,” Abruzzi breathed, tipping his head back and jerking forwards against the murderer. The mobster's body was visibly tense for a few heartbeats, then he sagged over T-Bag, exhaling heavily. LJ closed his eyes briefly at the thought of what was spreading warmly between the two bodies, _inside_ one of them.

Slowly and silently backing away from the sight of the two spent men by the big tree, LJ blushed and realized he wouldn't have to do much before returning to camp, except perhaps change his trousers. And wash them.

Fuck it if he was going to look either man in the eye during dinner.


End file.
